(ir)replaceable
by boasamishipper
Summary: Sometimes, Bolin feels about as useful as a white crayon. Set during the Equalist Revolution. Written for Round 2 of the Probending Circuit.


a/n: this is my response to the prompt for the second round of the probending circuit. enjoy.

Prompt **:** (Pawn) _Write about someone or something that appears to be unimportant or expendable who proves to be more important than they or other people realize._

Key words: ebony (the color), the Fire Nation capital.

Word count: 1575.

Characters: Bolin, Equalists.

Pairings: Hints of one-sided Boasami if you squint.

* * *

Growing up with a firebender for a mom and an earthbender for a dad, things were never easy for me. My fuzziest, bleariest memories involve us living in a tenement house with a bunch of other mixed families, where the halls smelled like blends of different cuisine (not always an appetizing aroma) and children ran up and down the halls. Momma worked two jobs and still had time to tell us stories about the Fire Nation Capital, where she'd grown up. Poppa worked three jobs during the week and had every other weekend off. Mako had it easiest—he was a firebender practically from the cradle. The children always sat around him and begged him to show off little tricks, which he always did with a proud smile on his face. (That I recall only 'cause the first few months after Poppa and Momma were killed Mako never smiled and I had started to wonder whether my memories of him beaming really had happened.)

None of the other kids paid attention to me, a chubby green-eyed five year old who couldn't even bend a pebble. I wasn't as amazing or jaw-droppingly cool like my brother.

I figured I'd be able to make a name for myself once I finally learned how to earthbend at age eight, but even the Triple Threats preferred Mako over me. They called me a whiny, sniveling brat—it took me until I was ten to stop them from asking me if I still needed a wet nurse. Mako got firebending lessons from the head honcho, Lightning Bolt Zolt himself, _and_ got to participate in rumbles with the other gangs, while I got stuck doing security work. I started to tally the number of girls that wouldn't give me a second glance but would drool over my hotshot brother with every broody breath he drew (thirteen, if anyone cares).

And I know, I know how much Mako's given up for the both of us, how hard he works, how he pushes himself far beyond his limits. It's just—sometimes I wish I'd get the same recognition. Growing up like this hasn't exactly been easy for me. Sure, I joke around, I'm the comic relief in every situation, but…I still grieve.

(I told Mako my feelings of uselessness once, and all he did was hold me in his arms and tell me that I wasn't irreplaceable, that he'd be lost without me. He didn't tell me _how_ or _why_ he'd be lost without me, of course. I drove myself crazy trying to come up with reasons.)

Pro-bending was easier. Mako was the captain of our ragtag little team, but I finally started making a name for myself. I had fans. My earthbending, with Toza's help, became sublime. The Fire Ferrets started to get recognition from everybody.

And then we met Korra. Oh, boy, how could I describe her? She wasn't dainty at all. She wasn't girly, she was one of the guys. She looked ready to kick ass and she actually _did._ She spoke her mind, stood her ground, and fawned over the sport, the competitiveness, the adrenaline, not Mako. She was the Avatar to most people, but to me, she was just Korra. My friend that I wanted desperately to be something more.

But of course, she liked Mako. And Mako, despite going out with Asami freaking Sato (quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls in all creation), didn't reject her advances. They kissed, and I had to put on a happy face when it felt like my heart was being crushed by a stampede of ostrich-horses. I'm good at putting on happy faces for the sake of the public, after all. I should be an actor.

And after dealing with the pro-bending arena being destroyed, being thrown in jail, the revelation of Tarrlok being a bloodbender, and the Equalists taking over their de facto home on Air Temple Island, 'The New Team Avatar' holed out underground with some of the homeless people we've grown up with while waiting for further orders on what to do about the damn Equalists. Mako and Korra have gotten to the point where watching them interact is just painful, and it's all I can do to keep from shaking them and yelling, _what is wrong with you, the world doesn't revolve around your relationship, can't you show a little restraint for me and Asami?_ Forget me, _she's_ the one barely hanging on by her fingernails.

Mako and Korra come back from scouting while I'm sitting consoling Asami. Reconnaissance, they say they were doing. _Bison bull_ , I think, and I nearly say it out loud but then the hobo interrupts us and herds us to dinner. (I do get a little amusement from Asami spitting out her street gruel.)

That night, I sneak out into the oh-so-lovely sewers, unable to stop thinking about just how useless I feel. My life has transformed into a game of chess—Korra's the king, the one we have to protect at all costs. Mako's the bishop, the one that is close to the king. Asami's the queen—supremely capable, but not a leader (although she could be if Korra and Mako stopped making cow eyes at each other). And then there's me, the pawn, the expendable one. The game can go on without me no matter what.

It's not a new feeling, insignificance. This is the just the first time it's been able to overcome me, and I probably would've thought about it all night had I not heard noises in front of me.

My instincts (gut and non-gut) screaming, I whirl around, unable to see anyone. If only I were a firebender, I'd at least be able to see if my mind was playing tricks on me. "Who's there?" My voice is slightly shaky but I sound confident despite the situation.

The lights in the sewer flicker on, and I see the ebony bodysuits and facemasks of three of Amon's Equalists. "How did you get here?" Now my voice is much shakier, and the memories of the rally threaten to overwhelm me. My knees start to shake and it's all I can do to keep upright. "You're here to kidnap these people and bring them to Amon, aren't you?"

An Equalist scoffs, raising his glove and igniting it, causing the smell of ozone to fill the air. "Yeah, and so what? Who're you to stop us?"

Now I'm in trouble. I can't metalbend, so the only way I can fight these people off is by using hand-to-hand combat. But then again, these guys can't bend either. We're on somewhat even ground here. Right?

I don't have much time to think about it because the Equalist that hasn't spoken yet leaps towards me, punching in the direction of my chest. Out of pure reflex (thank Tue and La for the lessons I've received) I manage to catch the man's fist in mine and exchange a couple of strikes with him before getting lucky and nailing him in the head.

The first Equalist lunges for me next, and I rotate my body out of his reach. I get grazed with his glove while I'm trying to nail him in the gut, and it sends shivers up and down my spine, but I push past it and fight harder because I can't let them get to Asami or Mako or Korra or the other hobos. These guys aren't going anywhere, not without going through me. With renewed fervor, I weave and bob and dodge his attacks until he's batting at thin air, and then I kick his knees out from under him. Before he has time to react I knock him unconscious.

Then there's the last guy, who actually looks like he'll be able to take me in a fight—he matches me in size and stature, and it makes me nervous because he has the advantage of an electric glove. But I've never given up in a physical fight before and I'm sure as hell not going to now. He tries to kick me and I bring my arm down in a chopping motion to block his attack, and somehow I manage to shove him to the ground. But he leaps up like he's lost absolutely none of his energy and we continue to spar, even though I know there is nothing lighthearted about this. But as he runs toward me, I think of another option and I leap out of the way, causing the Equalist to ram his head into the stone wall and fall to the ground in a lifeless heap.

I can't help but grin the entire time that I drag their bodies back up to the surface, careful to stay in the shadows so no one will see me. Even if Mako and Korra never find out what I've done tonight (and I don't intend to tell them, but I might tell Asami), my feelings of inadequacy have been defeated for the time being.


End file.
